


A song of bow and arrows

by Tabata



Series: Leoverse [40]
Category: Glee
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 21:32:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5943823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabata/pseuds/Tabata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leo's training with bow and arrows leads to mild drama...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A song of bow and arrows

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This story is an AU from the original 'verse. What happens in here has little to none correlation with what happens in Leonard Karofsky-Hummel VS The world or Broken Heart Syndrome. The characters involved are (mostly) the same, but situations and relationships between them may be completely different.  
> In this particular instance of the universe, Blaine is a man who used to live in Adelar, a small village that got ravaged and burned to ashes by plunderers years ago. He used to teach survival and fighting techniques to the kids there, but when the plunderers came he only managed to save a handful of them, and they escaped with only their lives.

The amount of broken arrows at the end of the session is huge. There's a pile of them right next to the closer target. Most of them have cracked tips, others have a splintered shaft. A few are completely bended in half, and Blaine has no idea how they got that way. But after seeing the pile of discarded, unusable arrows, it's not hard to understand why Leo is sulking, sitting on the stump in the middle of the training field, the one Blaine uses as a stage when he needs to make himself heard by three fighting children, busy to beat each other for the silliest reasons. 

“Hey,” Blaine says sweetly, sitting next to him. He knows Leo won't mind. Both Annie and Adam – especially Adam – need their space when they are angry. They want to be left alone. But Leo's anger doesn't exclude proximity. In fact, he likes to be close to him, especially if he's upset. “What's up, kid?”

“Nothing,” Leo mumbles, moving some dirt with the tip of his shoe. He grew up a lot in the last year, but he still looks like a kid sometimes.

In Leo's language _nothing_ never means nothing. When he makes a mess and he doesn't want Blaine to know, nothing means _Please, believe me when I say none of your precious pottery possessions have been broken by me playing in the house when you told me thousands time not to while I try to glue it together._. When he says something he shouldn't, nothing means Blaine must have heard him wrong, he never cursed. And when he's so sad, nothing actually means _Something happened and I don't know how to deal with it, please insist._ ”

“You were training with your bow?” Blaine makes it a question, even if the answer is clearly yes. Leo has been spending every free second training with his bow since the day Blaine gave it to him a couple of weeks ago. Leo was so happy when he found the black, sleek weapon inside the box. He was beaming. The bow has always been his favorite weapon, and finally having one of his own was a dream come true to him.

“Yes,” Leo nods.

“You haven't missed a day of training,” Blaine continues, assuming Leo's pose with his hands between his knees. “I'm really proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Leo mumbles, but he doesn't seem too impressed by the prize, which is in itself proof that something is wrong. He always bends over backwards to receive a compliment. “But it's pointless.”

Ah, Blaine was hoping for that. Sometimes, Leo just needs to be nudged, and then words start tumbling down of his mouth even if he sworn to himself that he was not going to talk to anybody about his problem. “I see,” Blaine says, conciliatory. “And why is that?”

“I suck at it,” Leo snaps as he looks up, his pretty face crumpled with rage. “I can't use a bow.”

Blaine understands right away that, this time, the problem is not Leo's inability to do something, but his inability to use a bow. It's the weapon Leo has been dreaming about since he was very little. Blades never really held for him the fascination they held for Adam, for example. He trains with them, he knows how to use them, but bow and arrows are what make his heart sing. So, the idea of being bad at it must be heartbreaking for him. “Why are you saying that?”

“Why?” Leo looks at him shocked, and then he points to the pile of discarded arrows. “Look at those arrows, Blaine! Look how many they are! And they are all broken! I don't just miss the target, I destroy the arrows! They always end up in the stupidest places ever!”

Blaine knows Leo has a special ability with the bow. He saw it immediately the first time he put one in Leo's tiny hands. He's got the eye for it, the sense of speed and direction. He doesn't have just a good aim. When he focuses enough, he can predict where the arrow will go and when it's gonna get there. Blaine would have never encouraged Leo to choose the bow as his weapon of choice if he hadn't been sure it was _his_ weapon. What Leo lacks is patience. He wants everything right away, and he wants it perfect. And when it's not, as it happens, when he makes a mistake, he's suddenly not good enough. He's quick to forget his skills as he is to give up. “The only arrows that count are those that hit the target,” Blaine says.

“Oh, please!” Leo rolls his eyes, and snorts the way teens do, as if they think you oh so missed their point.

“It's true,” Blaine continues, patiently. A few feet away from them, the target sports at least twenty arrows, all stuck in the tiny red dot in the center. “Look at your target. You never hit anywhere except the center. You're precise, lethal.”

“Except when I totally miss it, possibly killing one of my teammates,” Leo says sarcastically.

“Did you miss once, and after that, you never hit the target again?” Blaine asks out of curiosity.

Leo blinks a couple of times, probably surprised that Blaine guessed so precisely what happened. “Yes,” he answers, hesitantly.

Blaine nods. “That always happens when you lose focus. And you lose focus as soon as something doesn't go exactly as you want it to go. Things happen, Leo. You must learn how to deal with it and go on. You can't just freak out because of something unexpected.” Blaine says, patiently. “If you make a mistake, take notice of it, understand what you have to do to avoid it next time and move on.”

“It's not so easy,” Leo grumbles.

“I never said it was, but it's what you have to do,” Blaine insists. “Once the damage is done, it's in the past. Your only task is not to dwell on it.”

“And what if it's not just a mistake? What if I'm just not good enough?”

“I have twenty-something arrows in the center of that target proving you wrong, Leo. When you're focused, you never miss. _This_ is really impressive.” Blaine looks at him, and when he doesn't see the change he was looking for, he sighs. “All right, stand up. Get your bow.”

Dragging his feet, Leo gets to the pile of arrows, on which he threw his bow in a fit of rage earlier. When he turns around, he finds Blaine standing with his back against a tree, an apple balanced on his head. “Take position,” he orders.

Leo frowns. “What?”

“Take position. Twenty feet in front of me,” Blaine says again. Leo does as he's told, measuring the distance in his mind. “You're gonna hit the apple.”

Leo turns around, in place. “I can't do that!” He protests.

“Yes, you can.”

“I could kill you, Blaine,” Leo says, with all the seriousness a twelve years old boy is capable of.

“But you won't because you've got perfect aim,” Blaine insists, and his voice doesn't show a tinge of hesitation. “Focus on the apple, it's all you have to do.”

Leo hesitates for a moment, then he raises his bow. He pulls the bowstring, aims at the apple... and then lowers the bow again. “I can't do that, Blaine.”

“Do it.”

“Blaine, I–“

“You can do it, Leo,” Blaine insists, his voice stern.

Leo hiccups, tears threatening to come out. Blaine can't say if they're tears of rage or fear, but in either case they should work. “What if I kill you?”

“You won't. Now, do as I say and–“

Blaine hears a hiss and a thud, and the two halves of the apple fall on the ground before he finishes the sentence. His heart is beating so fast, he's scared Leo will hear it, so he smiles as brightly as he can. “There you go! Was it so hard to cut me some apple, huh?”  
He picks up the halves of the apple and takes a bite from one, offering the other to Leo.

The kid ignores it tho. He throws his bow to the ground and runs to him, slamming him back against the tree as he hugs him. “You idiot! You could have died!” He screams angrily, hiding his face against Blaine's shirt.

Blaine chuckles. It's always amazing how angry Leo can be even when all he wants is to tell you how much he cares for you. Anger is the only way he expresses everything. “Do you think I would have volunteered for something like this, if I hadn't been sure you couldn't miss?”

“Yes, you would have,” Leo mumbles, his voice muffled.

Yes, he would have, Blaine agrees. Because even death is worth the risk, if it means Leo will pick up that bow again.


End file.
